Avril’s Revenge

“Avril’s Revenge”
A song written for Avril

Sometimes in bed when I’m lying awake
I can’t get to sleep ‘cause I’m lying awake
I’m thinking about how we met
And how I’ve felt since we met

Baby, I don’t want you to leave me
But I’m afraid that you might leave me
Don’t think I can’t see what you’re thinking
And I know, I know what you are thinking

At home, alone
Alone, alone
At home, alone
Alone, alone
Yeah, yeah, baby
Yeah, yeah, baby

You said a familiar line to me
It just crossed the line to me
I’m afraid that we are breaking up now
I wish that we weren’t breaking up now

I loved of our time together as a couple
I still want to stay together as a couple
Irresponsible, unprotected, pre-marital sex, yeah!
Irresponsible, unprotected, pre-marital sex, yeah!
Yeah, yeah!

At home, alone
Alone, alone
At home, alone
Alone, alone
Yeah, yeah, baby
Yeah, yeah, baby

Sometimes we’ve got to find
I think I can blow your mind
Something that we’ve got to find
So I’m gonna blow your mind

Maybe some time in the future you’ll see
We were meant to stay together you’ll see
But somehow I don’t think that you learned
I hope to one day know what you learned
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah,

At home, alone, alone, alone
At home, alone, alone, alone
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah baby baby

Appearances (The Uni-Brow Song)

“Appearances (The Uni-Brow Song)”

Goofy-looking kid

I don’t look good

But you’d swear that I did

And then you would

Admire my hygiene

Admire my hygiene

Combing my hair

Brushing my teeth

So the plaque leaves them bare

But underneath

I’m a normal-looking guy

A normal-looking guy, normal-looking guy

Holy cow

I’m plucking my uni-brow

Don’t think I’m done yet

If I see them there

I’m pulling out each hair

How do you like me now?

Put in my contacts

Not wearing glasses

And I know how to act

From taking classes

To make up for my looks

Make up for my looks, up for my looks

Holy cow

I’m plucking my uni-brow

Don’t think I’m done yet

If I see them there

I’m pulling out each hair

How do you like me now?

Fancy clothes, expensive hairdo

Fancy clothes, expensive hairdo, hey

Holy cow

I’m plucking my uni-brow

Don’t think I’m done yet

If I see them there

I’m pulling out each hair

How do you like me now?

How do you like me now?

I’m metrosexual

I’m metrosexual

I’m metrosexual

The Job Search

“The Job Search” (feat. R******)

When you’re out of work on the planet Earth

You need to put some effort into your job search

Want to know what it’s all about?

“How do you make yourself stand out?”

When you’re in an interview let your colors burst

Remember to “highlight your hard skills first”

When you’re sending thank-you notes, don’t feel too gallant

Cuz “in this economy there is a war on talent”

Shake hands with your interviewer when you’re on their floor

“My name is Stephanie; I have never blogged before”

We are unemployed and we act like monkeys

In “a world littered with… smart phone junkies”

You need a job and you feel like you can’t wait?

“You need to take control of things as a candidate”

You send out applications and then you hope and pray

“Individuals may lack key skills that employers need today”

Sometimes you’ll want to say that to “feed your kids” is hard

I’ll say that you had better “stop pulling that sympathy card”

“You need to learn to market yourself” and “bring something to the table”

I say you should “Take Ownership” if you are physically able

Shake hands with your interviewer when you’re on their floor

“My name is Stephanie; I have never blogged before”

We are unemployed and we act like monkeys

In “a world littered with… smart phone junkies”

“Stop talking too much” yeah - don’t have so much to say

And for heaven’s sake “stop calling the same people every day”

“Keep an entirely separate calendar for your job search” – true!

“What works for one person won’t always work for you.”

“General topics to stay away from are… workers compensation”

“Make a note of major key points that happen in each conversation”

Trouble getting employed and fighting bouts of sorrow?

“Don’t expect to magically get the job tomorrow”

Shake hands with your interviewer when you’re on their floor

“My name is Stephanie; I have never blogged before”

We are unemployed and we act like monkeys

In “a world littered with… smart phone junkies”

“St- St- St- Stephanie; I have never blogged before”

Unemployed, unemployed, unemployed monkeys

“A world littered with multi-tasking smart phone junkies”

In My Hands

“In My Hands”

West Philly

East Portland

Dem gangstas in Oregon

Watchtower

Clean shower

Cleanin’ clocks for half a hour

Yellow birds

Ruby rings

They all doing nature’s thing

Calm down

Step aside

Or we gon’ ride formaldehyde

She's short

He's tall

It don't matter they're horizontal

I'm a thug

She's hot

Some do, some not

How it was

All because

We all backstreet pretty thugs

Hollywood

Graceland

Got the money in my hands

Bed of fries

Head of flies

Takin’ it off on the inside

PC

Load letter

Baseball bat don’t get much better

Tissue box

Wipe your face

Prison is another place

Want a profit

Gotta live

Hang with distant relatives

Grills, stoves

Crock pots

Sliced pastrami with tiny dots

Power strips

Electric

Shut them off to save a bit

Cold food

Thursdays

Hairy airports with delays

Horse race

In mud

You know I’m the biggest stud

Big trout

Handout

Free fish what I’m talkin’ ‘bout

I am

Same time

This is how I share my rhymes

I fix it

I mix it

Slumber party sellin’ tickets

Pop it once

Pop us thugs

Bullets: candy; guns are hugs

Yo I got the money!

Yo I got the money!

(Y’all hearin’ this?)

Yo I got the money!

In my hands

Realities

“Realities”

The man comes knockin’

We both don’t know

This room will be rockin’

With muzzle glow

He want his money

He all waving his gat

You know it ain’t funny

Disrespect me like that

I walk around the sofa

I push it in his knees

That fool go falling ova’

And then he drop his piece

Then we both start racin’

I grab my favorite nine

We shoot hell up that place, an’

The last shot heard was mine

We all living on this earth

With lives all twistin’ in the breeze

When all us wondering what it’s worth

We live with our realities

She never had the cheddar

Her babies always cryin’

She want to make it better

She knows the men are buyin’

She does it all herself now

Don’t need no pimp this night

But wish she had the help now

This trick it don’t feel right

He hands her all the money

She says she’ll take him far

But there ain’t no use running

It’s the po-po in this car

They drive downtown in cuffs

She pleadin’ and she lyin’

But she is out of luck

And her babies still home cryin’

This grandma and this gramps

They in a one room place

They livin’ on food stamps

Ain’t got no cash to waste

No meds to make them better

No kids outside the joint

No one to chat ‘bout weather

No food, no life, no point

And grandma she in pain

He looks her in the eyes

He tries to help in vain

But poor grandma she dies

He can’t handle her leavin’

Ties a noose, kicks the chair

Then grandpa he stop breathin’

And no one around here cares

Prairie, Glenn

"Prairie, Glenn"
a short story by Clem Dogg

Glenn Prairie hated his job. He also hated mushrooms, double integrals in calculus, mowing the lawn, dog feces and Hilary Clinton - but most of all he hated his job. Right now, though, it was all he could think about. He stood waiting in a line behind six other people and tried many mind tricks, but no matter what he tried, his thoughts always came back to his job. He agonized over the details that made him so miserable. He had to, they were dominating his conscience.

The man in the front of the line moved off to the side, leaving an opening for the second man who was unusually short, but stood with a great confidence that Glenn both admired and envied.

What was it that bothered him so much? He thought about the people he worked with. There were some for whom he was putting together a proposal. They were very picky people and if he put anything in the proposal without their permission, he would have to do it over. They were very demanding as well. Glenn tried to follow common procedures at work; he tried to use best practices when putting together his proposals, but these people (who all sat in a group together on a floor below him at work) did not care for common procedures or best practices. All they wanted was to have everything their way. Unfortunately, that was exactly what Glenn had to give them.

The short man, now at the front of the line, reached into his back pocket and continued his conversation with the young woman facing him at the front.

Maybe it wasn't the people at work that bothered him. Maybe it was the material. Previously Glenn's job had been fairly straightforward. There was a process with step-by-step instructions explaining exactly what he needed to do. But now his department had changed that process. They were making Glenn implement all new information in his proposals and they were not giving him much help to do it. In fact, there was no training whatsoever for the drastic changes to Glenn's job. He was told to do it differently and was expected to roll with it. So maybe it was the lack support that bothered him most about his job.

Finally the short man finished talking and moved aside like the original man in front. A family of four moved into his spot. Glenn's anticipation shot up as he knew he would be next to speak with the young woman.

Then again, he had worked in environments like his current one before. Once upon a time Glenn's job had no support at all, but he still managed to get the work done well and on time. Perhaps it really was the people that frustrated him so much. Glenn though of one person in particular - his supervisor, or as Glenn called him, "The Micro Manager." His supervisor did leave some things to be desired. For one, he never trusted any of the work that Glenn did. He was constantly questioning Glenn's projects and going over the details to see if there was anything - important or irrelevant - that he could change. Sometimes his supervisor became so perfectionist and obsessive that he would even take projects away from Glenn and do them himself while Glenn sat at his desk and waited. This really irritated Glenn, but the irritation grew when Glenn got scolded for not working while his supervisor put in long hours. What was he supposed to do? His supervisor wouldn't let him work on anything!

Just like the two men before them, the family of four stepped aside. Now it was Glenn's turn. He stepped up and looked the young woman in the eyes. "Will this be for here, or to go?" she asked.

"For here," Glenn answered. Then instinctually he looked up at the menu. There was no reason for this as he already knew what he wanted. He looked back at the young woman and noticed her shirt. It was a collared shirt with three buttons and there was a golden "M" stitched into the burgundy fabric. Glenn focused himself and placed his order. After she gave him his total bill, he reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. Then he grabbed some change from his side pocket and handed most of it to the young woman.

"Thank you," she replied.

Glenn stepped aside and put the excess change back in his pocket. He watched as the workers behind the counter filled his box of French fries and grabbed his pre-made sandwich from under the heat lamps. They set both down on a tray and handed it to Glenn. As he picked up the tray he walked back to the seating area to search for an empty chair. Immediately he found one and set down his tray at the table. Then he sat down next to it and unwrapped his sandwich. While the young woman at the front of the line had been a brief distraction, Glenn's mind was still focused on his job. He thought about the demanding people on the floor below his. He thought about the lack of support for the work he was doing. And he thought very intensely about The Micro Manager. Every one of these things still bothered him.

Glenn sighed and lifted his Quarter Pounder with Cheese® to his mouth and took a bite. Instantly they were gone - the work, the people, the supervisor - all gone. Glenn chewed, swallowed and smiled. Thanks to this burger his job no longer bothered him. Life was good.

About the Bosnians

“About the Bosnians”
A short play by Clem Dogg


SCENE


SPEAKER: I just emailed my pastor. I asked him if our religion is accepting of certain kinds of people.

"We are prejudice against all Eastern Europeans except the Bosnians. We welcome Bosnians with open arms."

So I emailed him back - "Does that mean we hate Greeks?"

Dude took only 9 minutes to respond. I love that guy.

He says “In our lives we are going to meet a lot of people who are different from us. Those people are probably going to hell unless they learn our ways.”

"One quick way to judge whether someone is going to hell is if they have a foreign accent. Southern accents are ok, as well as British and Australian. But any other accent - including New York - is a mark given to those people by Satan."

So I guess that answers my question. Still, though, I wonder why we make an exception for Bosnians.


THE END